The Irresistable Force Paradox
by The Bloody Red Queen Of Angst
Summary: This comes as a sequel to "Insufferable Bastards." Though I don't think you will have to read that in order to completely enjoy this second meeting between Akito Sohma and my original character Kristean Mitchell, it might help with the context of this meeting and their conversation. Disclaimer: I don't own Fruits Basket or Akito. But that's okay because I have Mitchell. *Complete*
1. This Is What Happens

**A/N: This comes as a sequel to "Insufferable Bastards." Though I don't think you will have to read that in order to completely enjoy this second meeting between Akito Sohma and my original character Kristean Mitchell, it might help with the context of this meeting and their conversation.**

 **Again, I do not own Akito Sohma. Though...some how...I do not think that the creator of Fruits Basket owns this version of Akito either. This specific Akito archetype comes wholly inspired from Fandom Angst, the creator of "Creatures of the Underworld." If you all have not read this yet, I suggest that you do. But with extreme caution.**

 **And in this sequel, there are some brief cameos of other original characters of mine from my original story "Hard Candy" on Wattpad. I am proud to say that the following characters are mine:**

 **Shawn Evens**

 **(Aden) McCaffery (and as a side note, Aden made his introduction to in my story "Suicide Girl And Her Saboten", which is based off of the work of TohruKyoYuki and her original character Kurumi from HER story "Mirror Mirror" which I highly suggest you all read if you already haven't).**

 **Special thanks to Fandom Angst for allowing me the opportunity to use Akito again in order to give you all round two. And thank you to all who supported the prelude to this story "Insufferable Bastards." So, without further ado, here we go! Enjoy, and don't forget to review!**

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Tall, slender stiletto heels clicked sharply along the unforgiving tile. Smooth black leather business shoes following effortlessly behind in time and rhythm to the woman's strut and sway of her provocatively curvaceous hips. And a small simper of a smile was given to this, along with the complete lack of surprise that the man would keep such company. Trailing through narrowing corridors, the growth of music could be heard blossoming through the very walls of this building.

...if music was what you could really call it...

He found the abrasive percussion and squealing instruments coming violently strangled by heavy male vocals to be...distasteful. This too, was not entirely surprising, though, and seemed to fit what he knew of the man quite nicely. Art imitating life, perhaps. Something he could appreciate, even if this so called music left something to be desired.

"Kris is extremely busy." This statement came curt above the growing music as the woman maintained her pace. "And he doesn't have time for people who fail to make an appointment to see him."

"Oh believe me, Miss Evans..." The voice beside her came lithe with a small chuckle and the lightest caressing of a Japanese accent. "I _guarantee_ that Mr. Mitchell will want to see me."

With this the woman gave a small huff of disapproval from her delicate nose as their approach was continued in silence. Slender legs cinched at the thighs in a pencil skirt slowed their stride and finally stopped in front of an imposing, thick door with an ominous red light just above screaming 'do not enter'. The hellacious music practically bled through the thick barrier the door offered as the woman finally turned the full force of her deep emerald gaze towards the figure silently haunting her footsteps.

Slender, delicate arms enfolded around her ribcage, accentuating her narrow waist and ample chest that came sinfully pushed through her trendy suit jacket. A stylish number that flared around her voluptuous hips to dress a soft and curvaceous body. An undeniably tantalizing feminine body that was sharply contrasted with her lean angular face and aggressive, dark A-line bob, coming finished and framed in chic black rimmed glasses.

A hungry corporate bitch attempting to thrive in a hostile, male-dominated world.

"And who exactly _are_ you?" This question came laced through the purse of her lips as she shifted her hips seductively, an irritated scowl furrowing her beautiful features as her green eyes looked the self-important man up and down dubiously.

Thick, stick straight inky black hair framed an angel's face with a sweet cherub smile along delicate lips in offering to this question as he allowed her to drink him in for a moment. An expensive looking silk button down came underneath a slightly less formal black suede hooded jacket trimmed in white fur to temper the man from the cooler elements. The well fit, personally tailored top came paired with crisp black business trousers and finished with those smooth leather shoes that had carried him to this space. The small tilt of his head pulled her gaze to that alluring face once more. Slender fingers came to caress his chin in though, his own lips pursing in consideration of her question before that same sweet smile swept along his features. And a deep, intense onyx gaze met her own, almost predatory in its stare before he answered.

"I suppose you can tell him that I'm a dear friend who has come a very long way to see him." The man purred in a voice of smooth velvet and silk. "Because he once professed a desire to return my hospitality, and I have finally managed to find the time in my own busy schedule for this most generous offer." And this was met by another small sigh of exasperation before the woman parted her lips.

"The production sound booth is off limits." This statement came authoritative in its announcement through luscious lips. "I'll let Kris know that you're here to see him." These words were murmured lowly in her dismissal. "Wait here." With a tone that left little room for negotiation, the woman stepped through the door, closing it behind her as deep onyx orbs followed in silence before she finally disappeared.

Finally alone with himself for the first time since entering the studio, the man took silent vigil along one of the empty benches lining the hall as he waited. What had once been angelic smiles and lithe laughter fell into nothingness as his affect became almost terrifyingly flat in contemplation. Time moved forward in a slow crawl, made only more painfully labored with the fact that the man had made himself a statue of perfect stillness. Having crossed his legs in those designer trousers of his, the man looked almost as if he were posing still for a fashion magazine photo shoot.

What seemed a lifetime later, the man finally stirred in response to the door of the production sound booth opening, the light above having gone a soft pale green. Deep onyx eyes drifted towards the light before trailing to the woman who had acted as escort as she stepped through the threshold of the room. And a sickeningly sweet smile spread along delicate lips as the man rose from his seat. Deep onyx eyes met exotic blue in a small, intimate moment of recognition, yet the figure remained blankly stoic to the man's presence. That pale blue gaze followed the man's approach as he completely ignored and passed the woman bearing witness to this reunion before slender fingertips came in gentle contact with shoulders in an almost violent disregard of personal space.

And delicate lips met smooth pale skin in a tender kiss of the cheek.

"It's been far too long, my friend." This greeting came effortlessly chipper through a coy smile, and an unamuzed expression was the man's only response as lips parted in a low murmur.

"Shawn..." Kris' voice came calm and even in its call to the woman as he remained unfazed by the man directly in front of him who had so publicly marked him with his lips. "I need you to see if you can find McCaffery." The woman's attention came divided between the two men before her as Kris continued to coax her from the stupor over this strange meeting. "Tell him he needs to come see me about rescheduling time in the studio for his new album." He murmured, finally gaining the woman's attention with his exotic gaze. "I'm pushing up the release date." And with this the woman gave a small nod before being halted in her dismissal by a strangely lithe, carefree voice.

"It was a genuine pleasure making your acquaintance, Miss. Evans." The man called lightly to her, the sweet smile still in place as he gave a small, delicate bow. "I sincerely hope that it is not too long before we meet again." And with her departure he trailed himself behind Kris, who was already several steps away in the other direction.

The well dressed man followed Kris dutifully in silence, his smile coming somewhat twisted as that deep onyx gaze burrowed into the back of Kris' head. Stepping himself into the elevator to take his place at Kris' side, the two remained soundless in each others presence as the elevator doors closed in around them, revealing their reflections along its shiny metallic surface.

"Well _played_ , Mr. Mitchell." The words came breathless in their dramatic delivery as Kris silently retrieved a cigarette from the pack in his suit jacket. "I have gambled with many men over various business matters, but I must admit that your poker face is simply _astounding_." This came laced in a light chuckle from the man as Kris exhaled a whisper of smoke, staring forward at his own reflection. "Honestly." The man continued in his admiration. "Had I known any better, I would have _sworn_ that you were actually expecting me."

"And that would imply that I was actually surprised..." Kris murmured lightly through another drag of his cigarette as the elevator continued to ascend.

"Somehow I doubt that you anticipated my arrival, Mr. Mitchell." The man murmured lightly as Kris gave another sigh of smoke and indifference.

"As a rule, I really make it a point not to be surprised." Kris offered as the man gave another small chuckle of amusement at his attempt to deflate the man's glee over possibly having put him off guard.

"Birthdays must be absolutely dismal for you then, hm?" And to this Kris merely offered a shrug of his shoulders.

"I was raised Jehovah's Witness." Kris deadpanned. "We don't really observe birthdays." And exotic, pale blue eyes drifted towards the man, taking in his silent deliberation of the truthfulness of this statement before a string of lithe laughter came to fill the elevator.

"There _is_ something I'm simply _dying_ to ask you..." The man lightly pushed through to quell his laughter before continuing. "Does your woman know about us...?" And this question was met with a resoundingly bitter snort of amusement and smoke.

"You're _really_ flattering yourself if you actually believe that there's an _'us.'_ " Kris murmured, and the man met this statement with the high arch of his well groomed brows.

"Oh, but Mr. Mitchell..." The man purred his name as their gaze collided, the elevator doors finally opening themselves to the requested floor. "...there _is_ an _'us.'_ " And Kris carried himself through the threshold of the elevator as the man silently followed.

"I have to wonder how your 'boyfriend' feels about that...?" Kris finally murmured with a small smirk of amusement as the two men made their way down the endless corridor of office doors. "How is he, by the way?" This question came effortless and casual along his lips with the drag of his cigarette.

"He's quite well, thank you." The man's tone came smooth and unaffected with a polite smile towards this attempt to gain a reaction.

"Really..." Kris' own voice came but a cold whisper along smoke. "Did you bring him along for this little social call?" And this question came answered with a string of lithe laughter.

"No. Not today, Mr. Mitchell." The man chuckled to himself. "We both know that my precious lover can prove himself to be a bit of a distraction at times. I thought it best to leave him home while on this visit with you."

"Pity..." Came this small murmur of response, followed by a passive hum of agreement and a nod of the man's head.

"But I will be returning to him as soon as I've finished with you." Deep black orbs drifted towards Kris' face with that cherub smile. "My lover tends to enjoy misbehaving in my absence, and can become quite naughty when left with an overabundance of time to himself." And with this, a helpless snort of amusement came through a thin nose and veil of smoke.

"Well that _is_ a shame." Kris murmured, supplanting his amusement. "A _man_ should have no problem keeping his house in order." This light chastisement left the man completely unfazed through his effortless smile.

"You really don't need to trouble yourself over my affairs, Mr. Mitchell." The man cooed in a lithe tone. "I would be far more concerned with your own, if I were you."

With this most courteous, passive aggressive warning the two men fell into silence before coming to pause at a large, imposing hard wood door. And a light whistle of approval came slowly drawn from the man's delicate lips.

"Very impressive, Mr. Mitchell." The man murmured approvingly before following Kris into his office.

The room itself was grand with its open space and large bay windows that looked onto the city, though it held little to no personal touches of the man who conducted his business here. The walls seemed to rise to the heavens in a beige that amplified and warmed the dying light of the setting sun that came through the windows. And the office was only made more pretentiously flamboyant with the style of its interior decoration.

The furnishings were oversized and decadent, lending to Kris' ego and taste. Just as the man had suspected all along, a simper of a smirk growing along his delicate lips. The desk set in the middle of the room was beautiful hard wood mahogany. Imposing in its presence, it automatically sent a message of insignificance to those who entered the space.

And _this_...the man could truly appreciate.

"Shawn said something about you wanting to cash in on my offer of hospitality." Kris murmured lightly as he made his way comfortably through the space, snuffing out his spent cigarette and removing his suit jacked and tie to place them along one of the plush sofas as dark onyx orbs followed his every movement. "So I suppose I should ask if you care for a drink." This offer came empty and lacking in any form of emotion or action towards the gesture as Kris slowly undid the buttons of his shirt, his icy pale gaze not missing the fact that the man was watching him as the shirt came slipped from his muscularly lean torso and carelessly tossed to the floor beneath him.

A delicate gold cross suspended from a thin chain caught the man's attention first as onyx eyes traced themselves along Kris' bare torso, drinking in the delicate inscriptions just below each collarbone. In ink, to his right was written ' _Love_ ,' and to his left was inscribed ' _Pain_ '. Kris gave a malicious little smirk at the man's obvious interest, delighting himself at having exposed a weakness as he turned his back to the man to go about his business of obtaining a fresh shirt. And as he turned his back to the man, across his shoulder-line came tattooed ' _One in the same_ '.

"You know..." The man's words came laced along a small smile as he drank in Kris' bare torso. "Freud hypothesized that tattoos are a defense mechanism. A way of externalizing some internal trauma." He prattled on as Kris retrieved a clean shirt. "So tell me..." The tone of his voice dropped a bit as he murmured through delicate lips. "...what secret pain are you hiding?" And at this Kris spared a sardonic look over his shoulder before he finally donned a fresh, crisp white shirt from a small closet to cover his well toned figure.

"You don't often make it back to your dwelling, do you Mr. Mitchell?" This question came lightly asked as Kris finally claimed the chair behind his grandiose desk, gesturing for the man to take a seat as well.

"That really depends on my work schedule." Kris offered this up honestly, rolling up the sleeves of his white button-up as the man actually gave a sympathetic nod of understanding.

"And I know that Shawn told you that I happen to be extremely busy at the moment," Kris' tone betrayed the smallest hint of fatigue as his voice came but a cold whisper. "So if you wouldn't mind cutting the bullshit and telling me why you're here, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't waist my time." And this was met with a genteel smile and nod of the man's head.

"But of course, Mr. Mitchell." The man acquiesced politely before the faintest knocking at the door stirred both men from this visit, and a small sigh of exasperation pushed itself from Kris' nose.

"Come in."

As the door came slowly pushed open a figure silently stalked through the threshold of Kris' office without introduction. The turn of the head from his seat, and dark black orbs dilated in response to the visual as a small, almost erotic gasp pulled itself through delicate lips.

That rich onyx gaze greedily took in the new arrival. Thick, black leather studded combat boots laced in chains gave the already imposing figure added height. Lean legs came clad in faded black denim jeans with added metallic accessories and more chains, finished with a studded leather belt that wrapped itself almost possessively around a thin waist. A black t-shirt bearing a white, elaborate insignia, with little to no script to lend to what it meant covered a lean torso and broad shoulders. But the man supposed that those in this country who saw it might know what it stood for. And the whole edgy ensemble was accentuated and finished off with a brutal spiked choker along a pale slender neck and matching wrist bands.

But what was even more engrossing, holding the man's sick fascination, was the hair. Dark inky black hair that had been aggressively shaved, the bangs drenched in blood red and violently pushed up into a mohawk, adding even more height to the lean six foot two frame. A hair style that came to match and mirror the sharp edges and angels of a blank, despondent face and haunted chocolate brown eyes. Eyes aged beyond the child's years. A child's face, marred with a nose piercing that linked a delicate, wire thin chain from the young man's nose to his ear in a complete show of horrifically delicious rebellion the man was not normally accustomed to seeing.

"Damn, McCaffery..." Kris murmured as his pale gaze, too, took in the young man's appearance with some interest. "When Shawn said I needed to see you, you know you didn't have to dress up for me." And the child's expression became slightly dismal as that dark, chocolate brown gaze fell to the floor in a small act of embarrassment and submission.

"Oh...my..." The man's voice came lithe and breathless in his interest and arousal. "Mr. Mitchell!" He exclaimed almost jovially, his predatory gaze moving from the child to Kris. "You have a live-in, too?! And he's so young and attractive." His voice practically thrummed with lust as Kris burst into a helpless snort of laughter at the child's open discomfort and the blush of his high cheekbones towards the man's insinuation over their working relationship. "Why didn't you tell me?!" And at this Kris' whole body shook with laughter in appreciation and amusement towards the man's antics.

"I didn't want to make you jealous." Kris exclaimed through his laughter as the man began to join in with his own as their mutual gaze fell upon the child.

"What I wouldn't give to place a chain around that collar of his." The man mused through another sputter of amusement from Kris. "And those cheekbones." He continued, purring in appreciation as Kris sat beside himself in amusement, reveling in the myriad of minute emotions playing themselves along the child face, ranging between confusion, duress, and rage. "I bet I could cut myself slapping those cheekbones." His voice came almost indecent as those dark onyx orbs continued to take in the young man in lustful admiration. "How does he feel about bondage, Mr. Mitchell...?" This question floated through laughter as Kris stilled his amusement long enough to respond.

"I really wouldn't know." Kris offered, gaining the man's attention as delicate, well groomed brows furrowed in consideration of this statement.

"So...you two have never...?" The man questioned dubiously with the arch of that well groomed brow.

"No." Kris answered coolly with a smile and the shake of the head.

"Really...?" The man murmured as his gaze flitted between the two men questioningly, more than a little disbelieving towards Kris' response.

"Unlike you, my friend." Kris murmured smoothly with the small twitch of a smile. "I actually have standards." And the man gave a small snort of dismissal at this open insult.

"Then I assume it wouldn't bother you if I had him myself?" This question came with the shift of dark onyx eyes from Kris to the young man, a diabolical simper spreading along the man's lips as he took in the child's wildly rebellious appearance once more.

"Go for it." Kris murmured to the man with a small, malicious smile of his own. "I'd actually love to watch him fuck up that pretty face of yours." And a small string of laughter passed through Kris' lips before it came marred through a sudden surge of hostility.

"Zavali yebalo, golubaya bl'yad." The Russian vulgarity slipped through the child's thin lips in a violent hiss, directed at the man as deep onyx eyes met angry chocolate brown, the child's more submissive nature towards Kris supplanted by sudden rage towards his guest.

The man looked quite perplexed for a moment, his well groomed brows coming to a furrow before his dark gaze drifted back questioningly to Kris.

"Oh yeah..." Kris' voice came passively dismissive of the young man's words. "He does that sometimes."

"What do you want, Kris?" The young man's voice came strained in repressed rage, and Kris' expression became void for a moment towards the child's end to his fun as a small sigh of consideration passed through his nose.

"You're coming into the studio next week, right?" Kris questioned, though the answer was already painfully apparent.

"Yeah." The child murmured, his voice coming far weaker than his rebellious appearance. "Why?" And Kris thought this over for a moment.

"Because I need you to come in tomorrow. I'm pushing up the release date of your album." And in the breath of a moment the young man's expression shifted from dismal submission to one of absolute outrage.

"You can't _do_ that!" The child snapped. "You _know_ we're not ready for that!" And Kris simply offered a small malicious smile to the anticipated onslot of rage.

"That's a damn shame, McCaffery." Kris murmured through his growing smirk of amusement at the child's obvious agitation. "But that really sounds like your problem." And with this statement exotic blue eyes pierced chocolate brown in a moment of tense silence and dominance. "I suggest you don't make it mine." Kris' expression became void once more, not missing the intrigued onyx gaze of the audience he was playing to as he finally deadpanned. "I'll see you tomorrow. Now get the fuck out of my office. I have work to do." And the two men watched in silence as the child stormed his way out of the office

"Ebanatyi pidaraz!" Was the parting scream of a guttural snarl before the door was violently slammed shut, leaving the two men to themselves in a moment of silence as the two stared at the space where the child had been only moments before.

"He's certainly delightful fun, isn't he?" The man mused through a soft smile in the now calmer space as Kris retrieved another cigarette, releasing an almost serene whisper of smoke.

"Yeah." Kris deadpanned in response through another drag of the cigarette. "He's a fucking ray of sunshine." And this caused a small chortle of amusement as onyx eyes met ice blue once more.

"I have to admit that I quite enjoyed observing your...methods...of motivation, Mr. Mitchell." The man's tone came chipper through his approval towards Kris' malicious, intentional antagonism of the child.

"He works better under pressure." Kris offered through a cold stare and veil of smoke, followed by a shrug of indifference.

"Pressure I assume you are all too happy to apply, hm?" The man retorted with a sweet smile as he continued. "So...where were we before we were so deliciously interrupted?" His voice came lithe as the two men effortlessly reengaged their previous conversation.

"You were just about to tell me why you're here."


	2. When An Unstoppable Force

Kris' voice coolly dispersed the silence, his tone laced in seriousness as he took another drag of his cigarette.

"You were just about to tell me why you're here." And this frigid statement was simply met with a coy smile.

"Would you believe me if I said that I had missed you?" The man's tone came playfully flirtatious, that cherub smile lingering along his face as a delicate whisper of smoke came pushed through Kris' slender nose.

"No." This statement came coldly deadpanned.

"I thought as much." The man conceded to this frigid response. "And I suppose you will find it equally unlikely that I came here to congratulate you on your recent success in breaking through the Japanese music industry." And to this a small, dubious scoff came pushed through Kris' body with the quirk of his brow.

"Oh come now, Mr. Mitchell." The man lightly chided Kris' show of disbelief. "I'll have you know I happen to be quite a patron of the arts." He mused, his tone conversational as Kris took another drag of his cigarette. "And I must confess what when I first saw you, I had envisioned great plans for the two of us." This statement came almost doleful in it's honesty. "I had looked forward to opening my estate and it's services to you in order to support your studio's growth in turn for word of my estate traveling with you back to the states." Eyes came downcast as the man's voice seemed to grow slightly distant in these thoughts. "It would have been such a beautiful...mutually beneficial partnership, Mr. Mitchell."

"It would have never worked out between us, babe." Kris' delivery came straight-faced and slightly sardonic as dark onyx orbs flitted to his cold features. "I don't play well with others." And a small hum of agreement with the nod of the head came in response.

"A fact I think you enjoyed making me painfully aware of the last time we met, hm?" The man conceded.

"So _that's_ what this is about." Kris murmured, the makings of a small, malicious smile playing along his lips. "You're still pissed that I damaged your toy?" This theory came with all the confidence of a substantiated fact as the man released a string of lithe, jovial laughter.

"If I were a lesser gentleman, I might hold some resentment towards your brutish behavior at my estate, Mr. Mitchell." The man chuckled lightly. "But I find keeping a grudge to be quite beneath me." A sickeningly sweet smile graced his lips as he continued. "And I guarantee that if I were still angry over what you had done...you would be the first to know, hm?" The man murmured politely, his voice coming effortless and unburdened by ill will.

But underneath that cherub smile lingered something far darker behind the man's onyx gaze.

"Though...I do find myself facing a problem of sorts." And Kris' pale, icy gaze flickered with a level of interest towards this statement as he listened. "Every morning I wake up, and I see all that I have. All that I have obtained and worked so hard for. All that is mine. My empire. My wealth. My social standing. My jems." The man murmured lightly through this list. "And I go about my day unfettered. I conduct my business. Make my deals. Grow my wealth, and spread the reach of my influence. And at the end of my day, I make love until my body aches and I'm left breathlessly overcome with satisfaction before I slumber...wrapped in the loyal, doting embrace of my lover." His voice lilted almost wistfully as slender, well manicured fingertips delicately picked at the fur lining the sleeve of his suede jacket.

"But lately, my contentment has been disturbed. My sleep is quite listless." The man murmured, so completely absorbed in his words as he spoke. "Because you see, Mr. Mitchell, I have become strangely plagued by whispers." This statement came breathless as the man continued this monologue to his silent audience. "In every corner of my house...I hear it. And every day since I've met you, it grows louder and more difficult to ignore. Passing through the lips of my patrons. My business partners. My acquaintances." The man persisted in these thoughts, eyes downcast. "Through the very streets I walk...carried along the breeze...I hear it. Your name..." He whispered, lightly shaking his head as the delicate fingers that had been absentmindedly playing along his sleeve clutched themselves into a tight fist. "I hear your name whispered _everywhere_ , now. In fact, you have become quite difficult to avoid these days, Mr. Mitchell." The man's lips twisted infinitesimally in a frown.

"The fact of the matter is, the more that I hear your name... The more I come to the realization..." The man murmured lowly, his voice growing just a bit deeper in his delivery. "...that I _really_ don't like you." And dark, malicious orbs lifted themselves through thick lashes to meet exotic blue in a thrill of repressed rage.

"And you came all the way just to tell me _that_?" Kris snorted a laugh, his tone patronizing as he took a final drag of his cigarette before snuffing it out. "Damn." Another chuckle ran through his lean frame as he shifted the full force of his attention towards his guest. "You know...you could have just broken up with me over the phone. Saved yourself some trouble and the air fare." He continued through the widening of his smile at the man having so openly admitted his contempt.

"I _really_ don't think you fully understand the vicarious situation you find yourself in, Mr. Mitchell." The man murmured lightly in response to Kris' smile. "Your persistence and aggressive expansion have made my visit quite necessary."

"So...what?" Kris questioned with the amused quirk of his eyebrow. "Is this your way of telling me to pack up and leave?" And a small string of laughter played along the man's delicate lips.

"I think you feel it as I do, Mr. Mitchell. Ever since you so brazenly made me aware of your presence...that the two of us cannot peacefully coexist." And a small smirk of agreement twisted along Kris' lips as the man continued. "Nor can we go about our days foolishly ignoring each others existence, hm?" The man lilted, his tone calm and smooth like velvet along the mounting tension. "And though I find the sentiment that 'this town isn't big enough for the both of us' to be a bit cliché, I will admit that it is in your best interest to move your music studio's activities elsewhere." And at this statement Kris burst into a sharp chorus of laughter.

"Is that suppose to be some sort of threat?"

"Of course, not, Mr. Mitchell." The man purred through lips laced in a sweet smile. "I would never _dream_ of doing such a thing." And his smile widened just a bit as he continued. "Simply consider this a friendly suggestion."

"Well..." Kris mused lightly to himself behind his pretentious desk, hiding behind an even more pretentious smile. "...if I cave to every 'friendly suggestion,' by now I'd have been screwed two ways from Sunday." This vile statement came spewed forth from his perfect lips. "So..." His exotic gaze narrowed in consideration of his adversary's threat. "...I suppose this is me...disregarding your 'friendly suggestion'."

The man smiled at this, his head drifting back against the elaborate armchair in such a way that allowed his laughter to effortlessly crawl up from his throat. Exotic pale blue eyes took in this open display of levity as laughter ran itself through the man's lean frame. Sounds of the man's amusement continued to fill the space between them until his head finally lifted from the chair and those dark onyx orbs met pale blue. And the laughter was gone...stifled as if it had never existed.

"You and I are not so very different from each other, Mr. Mitchell. You know that?" The man's words came light and airy in the aftermath of his amusement as this statement lingered along a cherub smile, only to be met with a doubtful expression from Kris before continuing. "We both feel the impulse to disregard society's trivial rules and mold them to satisfy our own needs." And Kris remained silent to this accusation, his expression holding nothing to confirm or deny the man's statement. "Take myself, for instance." He murmured, his voice a soft purr. "So many of my patrons come to my estate seeking thrills and conquest, yet they foolishly stifle their desires by insisting upon a 'safe word.'" The man chuckled out in disbelief, lightly shaking his head to this notion. "Simply because conventional wisdom whispers to them that there should be an uncrossable line between the acceptable and unacceptable."

"So I take it you and your boyfriend don't have a safe word." Kris' tone came low, gaining the man's attention as he offered Kris a small, twisted smile.

"Come now, Mr. Mitchell." The man cooed. "I think by now you know me well enough that you know I wouldn't allow such nonsense to impede the outcome of my satisfaction." And Kris gave the smallest nod of concession to this knowledge as the man continued. "You and I are alike in that matter, I think." The man murmured, his dark gaze coming upon the intensity of his words. "Men like us are not so easily constrained to society's dictation of our actions, hm?" Kris gave a small shrug to this, his gaze momentarily flitting to the cell phone on his desk as it quietly called his attention before pale blue eyes met his adversary.

And it was there. Not boisterous in its presence...but the man noticed it all the same. Lingering underneath the calm of that pale blue gaze. The smallest flicker of rage. There for only a second before it was gone, so quickly smothered that the man might have missed it had he not been looking.

"I find it funny..." Kris' statement came blunt, ignoring his phone as he spoke. "You have yourself so convinced that we're the same."

"Oh, but we are." The man murmured lightly through a knowing smile. "Which is why we find ourselves at such odds, hm?"

"You see, Mr. Mitchell." The man's voice lulled and lilted almost melodically with the rhythm of his words as he spoke. "I possess a talent for making deductions about people. A talent which serves me quite well in my daily business deals." He prattled on lightly, his gaze intent upon Kris as he continued. "Being able to read and anticipate people's needs allows me the ability to predict their moves and reactions with little to no error in my judgment."

"For instance..." The man continued without hesitation. "I know that you have been trying to goad me into a physical altercation with your relentless taunting." The man murmured as Kris remained silent to this blunt accusation. "But I must confess that you played your hand a little too well the last time we met, Mr. Mitchell. So getting a rise from me will be...difficult." And the faintest shapings of disappointment flickered along Kris' face. "That...and I fear after seeing that _fantastic_ body of yours, that I might be at a slight disadvantage in a fight." The man murmured with a smirk of a smile. "Though I simply _must_ know...how _do_ you manage time for the gym with your busy schedule?" And a bitter snort of amusement slipped through Kris' slender nose as he answered.

"I don't." This response came blunt in it's delivery. "The gym is full of fucking fat people who sweat too much and don't know how to use the equipment." This insult came followed with a light string of laughter from the man.

"A personal trainer, then?" The man questioned through his amusement as Kris offered a shrug of concession. "So what exactly is it that you are training in these days?" And the lightest smirk of a condescending smile spread along Kris' lips before he answered.

"MMA, mostly." Kris offered this information about his interest in the brutality of mixed martial arts as the man gave another chuckle to this response...knowing that he had been right in sensing a physical disadvantage.

"Really?" The man responded coyly, that same smile on his face. "You don't find that activity terribly taxing, do you?" And Kris spared him a look of veiled disdain as his spoke.

"No." Kris murmured bluntly. "I find that my physical needs are a little more...demanding...than most." And dark onyx eyes roamed over him a moment as the man considered this with another smile.

"I'm sure that they are." The man pandered politely to this statement.

"So what else do you _think_ you know...?" Kris murmured, his tone patronizingly as the man offered a dismissive smile before continuing.

"I know that your associate with the interesting fashion sense has a terrible drinking problem. And that he's probably two steps away from ending his own life." This statement came with the small twitch of a smile. "And judging by your lack of reaction this is something that you are already well aware of, hm Mr. Mitchell?" And the soft vibration of Kris' phone along his deep mahogany desk caused a slight lull in the man's assessment before he continued. "I also know that your woman is _far_ more interested in the sporadic attention you feed to her between your string of consorts than any sort of career advancement or corporate favor she might receive by being with you." Kris continued to listen dutiful, ignoring his phone as the two settled into this conversation. "But I see that this, too, is something that you already know." And Kris gave a small snort of amusement to this before lacing his lips with yet another cigarette, taking a slow drag as the man continued.

"Would you care to know what I could tell you about yourself, Mr. Mitchell?" The man purred with a sweet smile as exotic blue eyes peered at him through a veil of smoke.

"Why not...?" Kris murmured with a small shrug. "I always love to hear about myself." And the man's sweet, angelic smile widened at this open invitation.

"You...are a bully." And a soft snort of amusement laced in smoke pushed itself from Kris' slender nose as the man continued. "And I see that this is something that you take a great deal of pride in." He murmured. "But you see, Mr Mitchell..." His voice rose and fell like a pendulum as he spoke, his dark gaze constantly gauging Kris' reactions. "When you play the part of a bully, as you do, you ultimately run the risk of coming across someone who's just a bit meaner and more ruthless than you are..." And at this Kris gave an almost throaty chuckle.

"Well now. That's quite the parlor trick." Kris mused, his ice gaze peering through the thin veil of smoke. "Is that something you picked up from your little boyfriend?" And this antagonism was met with lighthearted, jovial laughter.

"It's true that my lover is quite talented at reading the desires written along peoples hearts." The man chortled effortlessly. "This makes him quite good at what he does." This acknowledgment came laced with a sweet smile. "But you're quite mistaken in your belief, Mr. Mitchell."

"Really...?" Kris met this statement with the small, curious quirk of his brow.

"If you honestly believe that I adopted my gift from my lover, then you really can't distinguish between master and pupil." The man smiled...a smile so completely wrong and diabolically twisted in its malicious intent. "Because I assure you, it is very much the other way around, Mr. Mitchell."

"Interesting." Kris met the man's predatory gaze with a frigid stare of his own, his tone coming completely disinterested in this revelation.

"I make my wealth...in part...by ensuring that my jems are well trained in identifying the inclinations and weaknesses of my patrons." The man murmured. "And though my lover may be constrained to playing the part of being dotting and tender to my clients, bandaging their weaknesses and making them feel invulnerable..." His voice came but a soft whisper gently caressed along these words. "...I personally find coddling the weak to make them feel better about themselves to be quite tedious. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I'm not overly fond of feelings in general." Was Kris' reply as he took another drag of his cigarette, the man lightly bobbing his head in agreement.

"I prefer to utilize my talent exposing peoples desires and weaknesses in order to make them a little more ' _compliant'_ during business dealings."

"Hm." This came a puff of smoke through Kris' nose in consideration. "I thought blackmail would be beneath you, my friend." And the man gave a small cluck of disapproval with his tongue.

"Blackmail and extortion are such ugly words for what I do." The man lightly chided. "I merely collect secrets in order to secure my interests and assets." Another snort of smoke pushed its way through Kris' nose at this statement.

"I pity the people stupid enough to become your business partner." And a small chuckle manifested from the man's delicate lips.

"I think you might be surprised at how accommodating I can make myself towards those who serve my interests." The man smiled sweetly to Kris.

"And..." Kris deadpanned, his features exquisitely void of emotion. "...what about those who don't...?"

"They usually find it far more trouble that it's worth, Mr. Mitchell." The man offered up with that sickeningly sweet smile. "Because you see...what I can't find out about a man at first blush I have _no_ problem in rooting out through more... _invasive_...means."

* * *

 **A/N: I have actually come to find out some really interesting personality traits while creating Kristean Mitchell and reading Fandom Angst's take on Akito. If you look up such things like Narcissism, Antisocial Personality Disorder, and Sadistic Personality Disorder I think these personality traits in _both_ characters.**


	3. Meets An Immovable Object

A string of sardonic laughter lingered along Kris' lips as he took the man's words in stride.

"More invasive means, hm?" Kris' voice came unperturbed by this veiled threat as the man continued to smile back congenially.

"My extensive finances _do_ offer me certain privileges and access to specialized services." The man lilted, his tone casual as he spoke. "So I took the liberty of doing a little research on you." And at Kris' lack of interest the man persisted. "You _did_ suggest that I 'look you up' if I decided to visit, didn't you?"

"I suppose I did." Kris murmured as he took a drag of his cigarette. "And how did that go for you?" Kris asked through a smile and veil of smoke.

"Oh, it was quite enlightening, Mr. Mitchell." The man offered a bright smile as he continued. "Or should I address you as Kristean Andrew Mitchell, hm?" Dark eyes flickered with amusement towards Kris' veiled interest. "Andrew..." The man mused happily to himself. "A name taken from your estranged father, yes?" The simper of a smile spreading along his lips as exotic blue eyes were momentarily diverted from the vibration of the cell phone once more before it was ignored yet again. "I imagine it must have been difficult growing up with an absent father." The man's tone dropped in an effort to mimic empathy. "Holidays must have been quite inconvenient when his abandonment was compounded with the creation of an entirely new family." This gentle assessment came lowly murmured through delicate lips as ever watchful eyes gauged Kris' response. "Do you ever speak with your father or lovely half sister, Alina?"

"Not really." Kris answered honestly, this response coming through a whisper of smoke...unaffected by the violation of his privacy as he continued. "It's a mutual agreement." And at this statement the man offered a light string of laughter at Kris' show of indifference.

"I find that doubtful." The man chuckled. "I bet that it was your father who refused contact with you, hm?" He mused lightly, that ever watchful gaze peering through Kris' veil of smoke. "You are, after all, an illegitimate child I suspect he would rather ignore. I imagine that must be terribly upsetting for you..." Delicate lips pursed in pensive consideration before they parted once more. "...to be ignored..."

"I don't care." Kris responded in monotone behind the faintest flicker of emotion as the man gave a small, knowing chuckle.

"That seems very hard to believe coming from someone like you, Mr. Mitchell." The man murmured lightly, that predatory stare lingering along Kris' features. "But if there _is_ any truth to this, then we will simply have to find what it is that you _do_ care about, hm?" He mused to himself as those eyes continued to linger along their specimen. "Though I do find that your low emotionality makes this process a little bit more difficult than it would normally be."

"Well that has to be frustrating." Kris quipped with the makings of a sardonic smile as he took another drag of his cigarette.

"Not really." The man answered genteelly with the small shake of his head. "I had anticipated that this would take some time." And the expression along Kris' features was unamused by this as he snuffed out his cigarette before slowly raising himself from his seat.

"I thought you wanted to keep this visit brief so you could go back to your boyfriend." Kris murmured lowly as his steps carried him to the large bay window of his office that overlooked the darkening city skyline.

"It would be too much for me to hope that you might miss me when I leave..." The man responded playfully with a small chuckle as those dark orbs watched Kris as he perched from his seat. "But don't tell me that you're _actually_ beginning to enjoy my company with this little visit of mine."

"Hardly." This statement came lifelessly deadpanned through Kris' lips as his exotic blue gaze stared beyond his reflection in the glass to the vast expanse of the city below.

The two remained silent in that moment before the man finally moved his lean frame from his seat, quietly taking his place to stand next to Kris along the bay window. As the sky grew dim with the impending death of this day, they watched in silences as each building began to burst forth into another life. The whole city was reborn before their eyes as a million fireflies along the skyline. Such a peaceful death, followed by an even more spectacular rebirth. And the two held their silent vigil as the city's candles were lit, one by one, before this silence was tenderly dispersed.

"Look at them, Mr. Mitchell." The man's voiced lilted along the deafening silence, his dark gaze drifting towards the people walking along the busy streets of the city below. "All of them..." He murmured lowly. "Like little sheep, hm?" This whisper lingered along a small smile. "Docile...compliant...mindlessly going about their pointless lives. Happy so long as they are given something to consume." The two watched the people below as the man continued. "My time with you has given me a growing appreciation for this empire of yours."

"But the problem with empires..." Warm, tender words continued to invade the quiet. "...is that...historically...they tend to fall." This came softly whispered in Kris' ear. "And I owe you a fall." Kris' expression remained frigidly blank along the city landscape, gazing past his own reflection to the darkening sky heralding the makings of snow as the man continued with his sweet words. "This castle you have made for yourself is so very fragile. Like a house of cards. And all it will take is just the lightest breeze to cause a storm that will lay waist to what you have made." The voice lulled this gentle chorus of impending devastation. "Now you understand why I am here, hm? And who I am. I _am_ that storm, Mr. Mitchell. And I have come to bring the end of your reign. Can you hear it?" The man cooed lightly, his voice dripping in velvet wrapped in silk. "The silent scream of your reckoning? Or have you actually managed to fill all of this silence with the music you make that you are unable to hear the sound of your own demise?" His tone became almost theatrical in its dramatic delivery as his voice grew a little deeper in Kris' ear.

"Can you feel it...?"

And exotic blue eyes met dark onyx in silence as Kris spared the man a disparaging look, the man meeting him with a cheeky smile in turn.

"Oh...that's right..." The man gave himself over to a small, sardonic chuckle. "My apologies...I had forgotten that you're not terribly fond of _feelings_." The man's gaze drifted away from Kris as he mused to himself, watching the small makings of snowflakes begin to fall along the city. "And I sense that you are very much in love with this severe, emotional deficit of yours. I imagine that it must make you feel quite invulnerable, no?" Another small, knowing smile played itself along delicate lips. "Though, the decorative script along your body leads me to believe that you aren't _entirely_ unswayed by your emotions." And again the gentle vibration of Kris' cell phone along his desk came a gentle lullaby to the backdrop of the man's chilling words.

And again, there it was. Just seething beneath the surface. That same infinitesimal flicker of rage as ice blue eyes flitted to the phone for only a moment before landing into an onyx ocean once more.

"Someone seems _awfully_ insistent on reaching you, Mr. Mitchell." The man gave a small, knowing smile. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to take that? It might be important."

"They can wait." Kris murmured, a slight sharpness and determination in his tone speaking to the man's suspicions.

"Very well." The man responded politely. "Now then...where were we?" The smile danced along his lips for a moment before it was dispersed with words. "Ah yes...your tattoos." The man mused, his voice lithe and chipper. "I find them quite stunning, but I can't help but think that they might speak a little to who you really are." These words followed a small simper. "Love, pain, one in the same..." The man continued, his voice coming slow in its reflective nature. "These words are so unlike you, Mr. Mitchell. They are so intensely personal. The very embodiment of 'feeling'. And I'm left to wonder exactly who it is that managed to affect you so to the point of putting these words permanently into your flesh, hm? As a constant reminder..."

"Who was it that hurt you...hm?" The man's voice came but a whisper as those deep onyx eyes peered into exotic blue.

"Who says that I'm hurt?" Kris scoffed, his tone empty of emotion as he gave the small quirk of a brow.

"No one is 'saying' it, Mr. Mitchell..." The man cooed lightly, his ever watchful, predatory gaze reading the blank slate of Kris' features. "But I imagine for you to have so violently driven the word underneath your skin...above your heart, no less...you must know something of the emotion." And those dark eyes continued their silent interrogation as the man emboldened himself to stretch out slender fingers in order to tenderly stroke Kris' cheek. "So...who was it that hurt you?" He whispered this again, gauging Kris reaction to his touch before his hand drifted back to his side, a small smile coming in the wake of Kris' silence.

"I suspect that it wasn't your father." The man's tone came with a conversational air as he spoke. "From what my private investigator discovered for me, I imagine your father leaving before you were ever born would have made it difficult for him to influence your development." That same knowing smile played along his lips as he continued in his deductions. "And with the way you actively refuse to cower to me, even when I make a point of violating your personal space, I don't think that it was someone who had the capacity to physically dominate you." A chuckle came to his lips. "People damaged like that are far too skittish and reactive to physical contact. Not like you, though, hm?"

"It can't be your woman who affects you so." The man mused to himself. "She fancies you far too much to purposely harm you." A small smile laced delicate lips as the man continued to break down Kris' infinitesimal reactions. "And somehow I doubt that you care enough for her to become emotionally invested to the point of risking becoming vulnerable enough to be hurt."

"So..." The man whispered lightly. "Who was it, then, hm?" Those ever watchful eyes burrowed deeper as the man played his little guessing game, delicate brows furrowed in contemplation as he spoke. "Who was it that managed to devastate such a beautiful little boy and strip him of his conscience to leave him nothing but a monster?" Angelic features shaped themselves into the most eloquent expression of emotionless stone as the man murmured for a third time to Kris' waiting ear.

"Who was it that hurt you...?"

And the only response to this question was the small snort of a chuckle from lips laced in a cruel smirk of a smile.

"You _really_ have no idea who I am, do you?" Kris scoffed through his laughter as exotic pale blue eyes shifted towards the man. "No one _'made'_ me like this." He murmured, his tone growing a little colder as his gaze held dark onyx. "I was born this way." This bold declaration stirred the man's angelic features into a small, knowing smile.

"Is that what your mother told you?"

Silence.

Both men felt it as surely as if it had stepped into the very room they were in. Stifling. Ominous. Oppressive in its heaviness as it settled upon the moment. And as exotic pale blue eyes shifted through inky black bangs to narrow upon the man, that small smile along the man's delicate features began to spread.

"So that's it then." The man murmured, his voice gently dispersing the silence. "You're mother is the one... _isn't_ she..." This statement came met with that same infinitesimal flicker of repressed emotion behind pale blue eyes as Kris' tone manifested in an icy, frigid murmur.

"That's not something I'm interested in talking about."

"Oh..." The man purred with an almost gleeful smile. "...but I _am_ , Mr. Mitchell."

"At first I had wondered if your sense of entitlement had been cultivated by a mother who overindulged you with her coddling and affection." The man's smile grew in amusement as he pushed through and ignored the hostility lingering behind Kris' gaze. "But now I see that this isn't the case at all, is it?" He almost laughed this statement. "She absolutely _hates_ you." And he began to laugh despite himself...a short burst of high, ecstatic laughter that briefly overtook him.

Dark onyx eyes drank in the small, minute cracks spreading their tendrils along Kris' calm exterior. And he knew. He _knew_ he had finally found what he was looking for. And now he could begin his work of inflicting retribution.

"I suspect she blamed your very conception for your father leaving her and reconciling with his wife." The man gave a little push along Kris' failing mask. "And like any mother with their offspring, I think she could _smell_ the defect in you... Flesh of her flesh. Bone of her bone. The little monster she birthed." It wouldn't be long now...the man could feel it, so he pushed just a bit more. "And I bet she was absolutely relentless in the way she blamed you for her failed love affair. In fact, I wouldn't be the _least_ bit surprised if she _still_ contacts you simply to remind you of how much she hates you." And ice blue eyes flickered unintentionally with the faintest tell towards the phone in silent concession as the man lent himself over to anther chorus of laughter. "Oh my _goodness_ , Mr. Mitchell!" He chortled rapturously. "That wasn't really _her_ , now was it?" His laughter grew boisterous as he spoke. "I had my suspicions, but never thought I would have landed _this_ close to the truth."

"And you..." The man persisted, unrelenting as he witnessed the smallest flicker of emotions play themselves along Kris' pale features. "You hate her even _more_ than she hates you. Because she somehow manages to break your calm and actually makes you _feel_ something. She makes you weak, and you hate her for it. Yet she has your number." He continued through his amusement over the truth he had finally managed to root out. "Which leads me to believe that, as much as you hate her, you still take her phone calls, hm? Though...not today, I suppose."

And he could feel it as he worked to still his amusement and laughter. The fractures along the mask were spreading. All he needed was to push just a bit more, and this delicate house of cards would come tumbling down. He was so very close. Just a little more...

"I wonder why that is, though." The man mused lightly, having finally collected himself as he spoke. "Why would you even _bother_ with speaking to her if she truly affects you so?" His voice came a soft lilt in its questioning. "What on _earth_ would compel a man such as yourself to do such a thing?" Perfectly groomed brows furrowed in contemplation for a moment of silence.

"Could it be..." The man's voice came softly pensive, laced with something far more malicious underneath the surface. "...that there is no one else in this world that makes you feel quite like she does...?" His angelic features remained placid and calm as he gazed upon Kris for a moment of consideration before continuing. "And you choose to accept this small vulnerability because her unrelenting hatred for you validates your existence. Is proof of your importance."

There it was. The man sensed it. Felt it. Saw it as he witnessed the slight twitch of fingertips. All that was needed was another little push to end this game.

"It's no wonder the mere idea of a meaningful relationship with another woman doesn't seem to interest you." He mused lightly.

Just one.

More.

Push.

"How could it?" The man paced himself with this question as it lingered softly along his delicate lips, bracing himself for the inevitable outcome that he knew he was inviting before he bravely whispered into the silence. "When you're already in such a deeply committed relationship with your own mother."

Fingers gripped his throat with startling strength, and the sudden violence of this act as he felt himself forced into motion as his back was slammed into the bay window behind him caused the very glass to tremble. Though the man had anticipated an aggressive response, the sheer force of it left him momentarily breathless as that pale blue gaze came veiled through bangs. And what the man saw behind those eyes gave him such a euphoric thrill that through his breathlessness he began to chuckle. Because he had waded through all of the indifference and lack of affect into victory to finally meet the monster. Unhinged and filled with rage as those fingers gripped tighter around the man's throat.

"Oh my..." The man gasped through the asphyxiation. "Have I actually managed to strike a nerve...?" And a sick, almost erotic thrill flickered behind his onyx eyes as Kris' lips quivered with murderous rage.

"Shut your fucking mouth." This threat came so viciously hissed between clenched teeth, only to be returned with a wrenched, stinking smile.

"You really shouldn't have started this little game of ours..." The man's words came whispered through his aspiration and dying laughter. "...if you weren't prepared to play." And his laughter was stifled as Kris squeezed down on his throat, forcing him further into place against the window.

"Go ahead, Mr. Mitchell." The man's voice came raspy through his lack of air. "I'm not scared of you. Go ahead and become that angry little boy. Lash out at me, I dare you." Another chuckle wheezed through his delicate lips. "I have no problems making myself a very nasty lawsuit for you." A moment of clarity flickered through that exotic gaze as the man forced a smile "There are all manner of unseemly things I will say about you that can be substantiated in a court of law." And the man was finally release roughly, his knees buckling slightly as he sputtered and gasped for air.

"Aren't we having such fun, Mr. Mitchell...?" His voice came pained and raw with a chuckle, regaining his breath as he gently rubbed his neck, smiling sweetly to Kris' back.

"Get out of my office." This demand came spat from Kris' lips.

"Gladly." The man chirped good-naturedly, having fully regained himself as he began to make his way slowly to the door. "Now that you _know_ I have seen who you _really_ are, I think we can come to an agreement, hm?"

"I said get the fuck out!" Kris' voice came strained as the man offered the smirk of a smile.

"And _I_ expect something in return for leaving." The man murmured, that predatory gaze meeting his words in their intensity. "So...allow me to phrase this in a way that you will have no trouble understanding." The sweet smile marred his lips as he spoke, his tone growing a bit deeper for effect. "Stay the fuck out of my country, or else." And with this overt threat the man turned and silently let himself out of the office.

The man found himself falling into a graceful stride as he confidently made his way to the elevator, down to the ground level of the building. Gliding across the pretentious lobby of the main floor, he made his way to the exit, opening the door to two women as he side-stepped gracefully to let them through.

"Konbanwa, ladies." He purred, his tone sensuous as he offered them a small bow and cherub smile, causing them to giggle as they passed him by.

The man stepped into the frigid evening air, savoring the cold as it rushed through him. Taking a few light steps into the crowd he paused a moment to lift his face to the snow. A small, delicate smile played along his lips as thick lashes fluttered in response to the sensation of melting flakes before his dark gaze opened once more. And the man's eyes captured a foreboding figure looming in one of the high-rise windows. The smile along his face widened at this, and in response to the figure in the window, the man touched two slender fingers to his lips. Pursing his lips to them in a kiss he then raised them to the sky, spreading them in a sardonic salute of victorious farewell before he turned away. Pulling the hood of his jacket up as he fell into pace with the mass of people, the man disappeared and blended himself into the faceless crowd.

 **THE END**

What do you know...?  
What do you know...?

What do you know...?

The birds and the bees they are wise to the lies

What do you know...?  
So they took to the trees and took to the skies

What do you know...?  
On top of the chain and safe from the rain

What do you know...?  
Whatcha' know about the ways of the underside?

(What do you) What do you know...?  
Bought a hot shot gat from a north end guinea

What do you know...?  
'Cause they're hip to the bull and hip to the lies

What do you know...?  
Ante up with the ass cause you ain't got a penny

What do you know...?  
Whatcha' know about the ways on the underside?

What do you know?!  
Bought a hot shot gat from a north end guinea (guinea, guinea)

What do you know?!  
Ante up with your ass cause you ain't got a penny

What do you know?!  
Droppin' bombs from above cut ya all down to size (size, size)

What do you know?!  
'Cause they're hip to the bull and they're hip to the lies (lies, lies)

(What do you)What do you know...?  
Yeah, the streets rose in two perfect waves in the night

What do you know...?  
Crashes on my left, and...one on my right

What do you know...?  
It's all fire and brimstone baby, so let's go outside

What do you know...?  
It's all fire and brimstone baby

I got my brand new pistol baby

What do you know?!  
Bought a hot shot gat from a north end guinea (guinea, guinea)

What do you know?!  
Ante up with your ass cause you ain't got a penny (You aint got a penny)

What do you know?!  
Droppin' bombs from above cut ya all down to size (size, size)

What do you know?!  
Cause they're hip to the bull and they're hip to the lies (lies, lies)  
And they're hip to the lies

 _Our turn to decide who lives and who dies  
Right in front of your eyes, it's time to get up  
Our turn to decide who lives and who dies  
Now answer the lies, it's time to get up  
Our turn to decide who lives and who dies_

Whatcha' know about the ways on the underside?

What do you know?!  
Bought a hot shot gat from a north end guinea

(Now answer the lies, it's time to get up)

What do you know?!  
Ante up with your ass cause you ain't got a penny  
('Cause you ain't got a penny, time to get up)

What do you know?!  
Droppin' bombs from above cut you all down to size  
(Now answer the lies, it's time to get up)

What do you know?!  
'Cause they're hip to the bull and they're hip to the lies  
And they're hip to the lies

Our turn to decide who lives and who dies  
Now answer the lies, it's time to get up  
Our turn to decide who lives and who dies  
Right in front of your eyes, it's time to get up  
Our turn to decide who lives and who dies  
Now answer the lies, it's time to get up  
Our turn to decide who lives and who dies

(What do you) What do you know...?

What do you know...?

What do you know...?

What do you know...?

* * *

 **A/N: The punchline for this whole entire story? "Your mother..." Bam.**

 **First and foremost, thank you to all who have supported this sequel to "Insufferable Bastards." Your love and support is what keeps me writing. Truly. Secondly, I would like to wish a (very belated) Happy Thanksgiving to my readers. I know I know...it's already December. Shut up and take it.**

 **Lyrics featured come from the song "The Mission (M Is For Milla Mix)" by Puscifier featuring Milla Jovovich. I know. The band's name is terrible. But I felt the song fit. And I have a deep love and admiration for Milla. As for the lead singer of the band. Yes...yes...he is the one. The one who shall not be named. And it still breaks my heart to hear him sing, but I couldn't pass this song up. For those of you who know me personally, you know what I'm talking about.**

 **Other honorable mentions I should probably include are Akito's dialogue with Kris' tattoos and the reference to Freud in chapter two. This actually comes from a TV series "The Black List" from the character Raymond Reddington. Not my words. Also...the whole "I owe you a fall" comes from another TV series "Sherlock" from the character Moriarty.**

 **Again, thank you all for reading and reviewing! And special thanks to Fandom Angst, my partner in crime!**

 **P.S. Special shout out to BrokenButFriends, who supported "Insufferable Bastards," and who's birthday I ended up missing. Happy (VERY SHAMEFULLY) belated birthday, my dear friend.**


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